


Dress for Success

by teacuphuman



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mpreg, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7906027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames applies for a position in Arthur's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress for Success

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for the title and the summary. I'm tired. Part Two of [Unexpected Gentleness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7655992).

Arthur’s sitting in his living room, forcing down tea and looking through paint samples when his phone dings with an incoming message. He rolls his eyes, setting down the strips to pick up the phone. As suspected, it’s another text from Jared, his ex. 

 

_ Why won’t you answer me? _

 

Why indeed, Arthur thinks. Maybe it’s the memory of the look of horror on Jared's face when Arthur showed him the pregnancy test. Maybe it’s because of the hopeful tone his voice held when he suggested Arthur not keep the baby. Maybe it’s because Arthur’s decided the biggest asshole in his life should be him, not the man he’s with.

 

Jared’s been texting all day, but Arthur has yet to respond. He wants a second chance. Says he’s reconsidered the prospect of a baby, and decided he can do it. Whoop-de-freakin-doo. As far as Arthur’s concerned, that ship has sailed. His plan, as soon as he’s into his third trimester in less than a week, is to drop off the grid completely. It’s not impossible to raise a baby in Dreamshare, he just doesn’t want to. He wants to take his wealth and use it to build a life for himself and his child. One where he doesn’t have to disappear for weeks on end. One where he doesn’t have to lie, or hide. A life in which his child will never question if they’re loved.

 

_ You’re being ridiculous. That’s my baby you’re carrying and I have a right to it. _

 

And that’s about all of that he’s going to take. Arthur flips the phone over and opens the backing, but before he can slip out the SIM card, an email notification comes through. His laptop is on the other side of the room and his pregnant back protests the thought of going over there. He turns the phone back, thumbing open the email. It’s from Eames. Arthur frowns, Eames knows how pregnant he is and shouldn’t be asking him along for any jobs.

 

Arthur’s mind flashes back to the last job they worked together. The last job they will have ever worked together, really. They’d slept together continually over three weeks, Eames seeing to his every need, on the job and off. He’d made it harder than it should have been to walk away.

 

Arthur knows his pregnancy was a novelty to Eames, a chance to play house, but none of it was real. They were together for three years, and in all that time, not once did they discuss starting a family. Arthur probably would have laughed himself to tears had Eames brought it up. You don’t just walk out of your dream job, especially when you’re the best in the business. Until you do. Arthur runs a hand over his ever-expanding belly and smiles.

 

He opens Eames’ email and almost chokes on his tea when he sees the subject line.

 

Application for the Position of Father to Your Child

 

He tosses his phone beside him on the couch and struggles to his feet for his laptop. There’s an attachment to the email, and he has a feeling he’s going to want to see it on a bigger screen. He settles at the kitchen table and pulls up the message. 

  
  


**My Darling Arthur,**

 

**Please accept the attached cover letter and CV as my expression of desire to reintegrate myself into your life, and the future of your unborn child.**

 

**Sincerely,**

 

**Eames**

 

Arthur’s half afraid to open the attachment. While it’s true that he’s given thought to what it would be like to be with Eames again, to raise this baby together, he knows that’s not what Eames really wants. Except, it seems, maybe it is.

 

He gets up and makes himself a proper cup of coffee. If he’s going to do this, he needs caffeine, not that herbal shit his midwife keeps giving him. He grabs a couple of cookies on his way out of the kitchen because he’s pregnant and he can. His phone dings three more times while he’s in the kitchen so he stops to remove the SIM card, tossing it down the disposal.

 

Once he’s resettled at the table, he braces himself and opens the file.

 

**Arthur,**

 

**Since we parted in Québec, I’ve been thinking of you and your little sprout. You’re the most capable person I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, and I am certain that a child raised solely by you would turn out beautifully, if not terrifyingly practical. But consider for a moment, if you will, what a child raised by both of us could be.**

 

Arthur stops reading because he has thought about it, more than once. This baby, growing into someone with Arthur’s tenacity, and Eames’ ingenuity, would be amazing. He doesn’t doubt his own capacity to care for this child, but Eames has a way about him that leaves you with no doubt as to how he feels for you. With Eames in her life, his baby would never have to wonder if she’s loved. Even when they were saying their last goodbyes, Arthur knew the depth of Eames’ feelings for him. Loving each other had never been the problem.

 

**Can you see her? She’s unstoppable.**

 

**I’m not so naive as to believe you when you say you’re planning to remain in the business. I know you, pet. My best guess is if I don’t make my interest known now, I’ll never get the chance again.**

 

**Something happened between us in that hotel room, Arthur. Something beautiful, and I realized as soon as you walked away that letting you do so was the biggest mistake of my life. That place used to be taken by letting you walk away the first time, but that goodbye led us here, and I can’t regret that.**

 

**Those 23 days were among the happiest of my life, and I discovered I’ve quite fallen in love with you all over again. Did you plan that, you little minx? Part of me hopes so. In any case, this is me asking you to consider a life with me. Not the one we had planned and plotted all those years ago, but a new one. Full of diapers and tears, laughter and smiles. I’ll change the nappies, you read the stories.**

 

**Give me chance, Arthur. I promise I won’t disappoint you again.**

 

**Love,**

 

**Eames**

 

Arthur wipes his face on his sleeve, not surprised at the tears soaking into the fabric. He’s been more emotional than usual lately, but this is something else. That Eames thinks he disappointed him, that it’s the reason he left, is hard to know. He’d thought he’d been perfectly clear then. Apparently not.

 

Page two of the file is, indeed, a CV. It’s horrifically formatted, and rather light on details, but charming nonetheless. 

 

Under objective it reads:

 

**_To obtain a long-term, full time position in your life, and the life of your child. To exceed your expectations as the best partner and co-parent imaginable._ **

 

His education is listed as  **_Enough to get by on_ ** , and  **_Thirty-five years in the school of life, accompanied by three years of on the job training as a live-in lover, and ten years under the professional study of the best Point Man in the business._ **

 

Arthur shakes his head, but he’s smiling at the screen.

 

Skills and Abilities contains such gems as:

 

**_-That thing I do with my tongue. You know the one._ **

**_-Document Forgery_ **

**_-International Espionage_ **

**_-Run a 12 Minute Mile (don’t laugh)_ **

**_-Gives Excellent Massages_ **

**_-Survived a Childhood with Four Older Sisters_ **

**_-Healthy Appreciation for Death_ **

**_-Apparent Pregnancy Kink_ **

 

These are followed by more serious attributes, such as:

 

**_-Cooking Skills_ **

**_-Can Braid Hair_ **

**_-Infant CPR (certificate available upon request. It’s not forged, I promise.)_ **

**_-Hand to Hand Combat Skills_ **

**_-Is Willing to Run Away with You at a Moment’s Notice_ **

**_-Loves You Fiercely and Without Reservations_ **

**_-Has no Intention of Ever Stopping That_ **

**_-Can no Longer Imagine My Life Without You in it_ **

**_-I Still Have That Bell_ **

 

Arthur has to stop and waddle around the room for a minute before continuing. For all of Eames’ teasing and  _ lesser faire _ lifestyle, Arthur knows he never jokes about love. When they committed to each other before, Eames was all in. Even in Québec City, Arthur could see that Eames still loved him.

 

How much did it hurt, he wonders, when Arthur moved in with Jared? Was Eames enraged, or brokenhearted all over again? Or did he see it for what it was? A relationship with someone outside of Dreamshare who wouldn’t compromise Arthur’s work.

 

He’s almost afraid to read the Experience section of the resume, knowing how detailed Eames can be with his descriptions. But, he forges on, nearly convinced this is a serious bid for his affections.

 

**_I’ve been in love with you almost from the moment I met you. It wasn’t your tight pants, or your lovely scowl, or the flashing smile you granted me only after I’d truly worked for it. I first fell in love with your mind. Your ability to see details no one else can is remarkable, and second only to your singular determination to make people see things your way. What never ceases to amaze me is that you’re usually right._ **

 

**_Next, I fell in love with your heart. You don’t often show it off, but when one is the subject of your heart’s desires, you leave no avenue unexplored along the path to that person’s happiness. Never have I felt so content, so complete, as I did in your affection. You love with all of your being, and I’m proud to say I not only survived that, but I flourished in it. I became a better man because of you, Arthur._ **

 

**_Thirdly, I fell in love with your body. Can you blame me? It’s exquisite. A fine tuned instrument, sleek in it’s design, and deadly in its precision. Just when I thought you had reached the peak of perfection, you arrived vibrant and with child. Watching your body grow and change over those three weeks was a life altering experience. Truly, I did not know that miracles existed until I watched your baby shift and expand inside your body._ **

 

**_We did this once, Arthur, and we can do it again. Tell me what I need to do to fix what I broke, and I will do it. I love you, and I can’t just let you walk out of my life again. Please._ **

 

Arthur slams his laptop closed, and pushes back from the table. He paces the room as fast as his sore joints will allow. He needs to call Eames, needs to straighten things out. Even if Arthur doesn’t take what is being offered, Eames deserves to know the truth about why Arthur walked away.

 

He reopens his computer and types a reply.

 

**715 Highgate Gardens**

**Bellevue, WA**

**7pm, tomorrow**

**I haven’t made any decisions.**

 

He hits send before he can second guess himself. It’s early yet, giving Eames over 24 hours to get there from wherever he is. Arthur knows Eames would have at least tried to locate him before sending the email, so he’s most likely in the country.

 

When he wakes the next morning, Arthur goes about his day, picking up his paint selections from the hardware store, and stopping by the new baby boutique on main street. He lets the owner fawn over him and spends enough to cover the store’s rent.

 

He stops for lunch and indulges in an éclair from the cafe’s display, intending to return home for a well deserved nap once he’s unloaded the car. When he pulls into his driveway at a quarter to three, Eames is sitting on the porch swing, duffle bag at his feet. Arthur grips the steering wheel and stares at him. Eames smiles and gives him a little wave. 

 

Arthur takes a deep breath and opens the door, pressing the release for the hatch. Eames meets him at the back of the vehicle.

 

“Let me help you.” 

 

“You’re not even supposed to be here yet.” Arthur snaps, thrown off. He shouldn’t be surprised, really, but pregnancy brain has him feeling three steps behind most days.

 

“Couldn’t wait,” Eames says, smacking Arthur’s hands away from the paint cans. “Just go unlock the door, I’ll get these.”

 

“Oh, have you not picked the lock and had a look around yet?” Arthur drawls, latching onto the bags from the boutique when Eames’ hands are full.

 

“I’m not completely stupid.”

 

“So you just wanted to catch me off guard?” Arthur unlocks the front door and shuts off the alarm. He leads Eames into the kitchen, depositing his bags on the table.

 

“As if I could,” Eames sets down the paint and puts his hands on his hips. “Didn’t want to chance you running before I arrived.”

 

“I asked you to come. If I was planning to run, I wouldn’t have responded.”

 

“Because you never get cold feet.” Eames says, and Arthur looks away. 

 

They stand in silence and Arthur can feel his cheeks burning. Whether it’s from shame or a hot flash, he’s not sure. He pulls off his sweater and drapes it over a chair. Eames whistles through his teeth, eyes glued to the fabric of Arthur’s t-shirt, stretched over his stomach.

 

“Well, look at you. My, how you’ve grown, darling!” 

 

“Fuck off,” Arthur says, fighting a smile. He’s proud of his belly and Eames’ praise feels nice. “I’m not on display.”

 

“You look lovely, Arthur, but I was talking to the baby,” Eames reaches out, checking the movement almost immediately. “Can I?”

 

Arthur hesitates long enough for Eames’ smile to slip. But he thinks about the reverent way Eames had touched him in Québec City. How gentle and warm his hands had been around the curve of his abdomen. How eager. Arthur’s flushed again and he’s suddenly very conscious of how long it’s been since he’s been touched. 

 

He steps toward Eames. “Okay.”

 

Eames doesn’t ask if he’s sure, just slides his hands over the top of Arthur’s belly, mapping out the growth since the last time they were together.

 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? How quickly they grow?”

 

Arthur huffs. “You only say that because you’re not the one pregnant. Most days it feels endless.”

 

Eames looks up, fondness in his eyes. “Over halfway there, yeah?”

 

Arthur give him a little smile, rubbing his fingers along the underside of his bump. “Yeah, 27 weeks, two days.”

 

“God, Arthur.” Eames whispers.

 

“My midwife says she’s a bit small, but her growth his steady.”

 

“You know for a fact it’s a girl now?” Eames asks. It had become a bit of game in Québec, guessing the gender of the baby by what Arthur was craving that day. “Not a leprechaun?”

 

Arthur laughs. “Not as far as I know. Definitely a girl, though.”

 

“Just what you wanted.” Eames smiles so wide, his eyes crinkle. 

 

Arthur surges forward, grabbing Eames by the shoulders and kissing him, and God, it feels like so long since Arthur’s had someone else’s hands on him that didn’t belong to a medical professional. His belly gets in the way, but he presses himself as close to Eames as he can, groaning when Eames starts to kiss him back.

 

Eames’ mouth moves to Arthur’s neck, his hands to Arthur’s ass, and he’s backing them toward the wall. Arthur’s panting, fingers holding Eames’ head in place while he struggles to angle his lower half close enough for some friction. Eames slides his thigh between Arthur’s legs, encouraging him to rut against it.

 

“God, Arthur,” Eames gasps between biting kisses to Arthur’s throat. “I’ve missed you so much.”

 

Arthur nods, pulling Eames closer.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening. I’m here. You’re letting me,” Eames groans, returning to Arthur’s mouth to kiss him deeply. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

 

Arthur’s getting close, even with the halting rhythm that only connects with Eames’ thigh on every third pass. He’s so desperate to come, he almost misses what Eames is saying. Arthur freezes.

 

“Darling?” Eames pulls back, worried.

 

“We need to stop.” Arthur says, voice hoarse and cock throbbing.

 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Eames’ hands ghost over his belly, as if scared to touch it.

 

“No, fuck. We should talk.” Arthur presses his hand over his eyes, ashamed. 

 

“I don’t know if that’s necessary, we seem to be doing just fine.” Eames chuckles, kissing Arthur chin.

 

“Eames, when I said I hadn’t made any decisions, I was serious.”

 

Eames pulls back completely, the absence of his warm body making Arthur shiver.

 

“Then what the fuck was that?” He demands.

 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away. I just, I don’t know, okay? This pregnancy just-”

 

“This pregnancy doesn’t give you the right to jerk me around, Arthur.” 

 

Arthur can hear the hurt hidden underneath the anger in Eames’ voice.

 

“I know, you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at the floor.

 

The awkward silence resumes and Arthur tries to will away his erection. He’s mortified to find his shame isn’t strong enough to erase the heedy want Eames’ presence inspires. 

 

“I usually take a nap in the afternoons. I’m gonna go lie down for a bit,” He chances a look at Eames, the pained look on his face making Arthur wince. “You should stay. We, we can talk when I’m rested.”

 

“Sure.” Eames says, clipped.

 

Arthur slides past him and retreats down the hall to his bedroom. Sleep hasn’t come easy since about week 20, and he tosses and turns for a while, regret and disappointment churning inside him, before finally falling asleep. When he wakes, the smell of garlic makes his stomach rumble, setting the baby off until she’s kicking his bladder so hard he has to get up and pee. He still feels tired, but he knows it’s not fair to make Eames wait any longer than he already has. 

 

The problem is, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Eames isn’t the father of this baby, no matter how much either of them might wish he were. Somewhere down the line, that’s going to matter. Arthur knows this from experience, and he’s not keen to put his child through that. 

 

Eames is in the kitchen when Arthur stumbles in, following the delicious aroma of his favourite take out.

 

“Ah, there’s Sleeping Beauty.” Eames gives him a tight-lipped smile. 

 

Not completely forgiven then, Arthur thinks. “Did you go through my phone records?”

 

Eames rolls his eyes, taking plates out of the cupboard. “No, Arthur, I looked at the takeout menu on top of the fridge. They know your number by sight, apparently.”

 

“Oh,” Arthur rubs his belly, where the baby is still kicking away under his shirt. He doesn’t miss how Eames’ eyes follow the movement of his hand.

 

“Sit, eat.” 

 

Arthur does, and it’s wonderful. His garlic craving is getting out of hand, but he tries to limit himself to ordering in only three nights a week. His midwife hasn’t said anything about his weight gain, but she tuts every time he gets on the scale.

 

“Thank you for this,” Arthur says after the first few bites. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here when I woke up.”

 

“Because you’re a selfish toff?” Eames spears a piece of chicken and pops it into his mouth.

 

“Yes, because of that. I think maybe pregnancy and seclusion don’t go hand in hand.” Arthur admits.

 

“You don’t say,” Eames fingers go white around his fork. “How about from here on in, we don’t pretend like we’re new to this, yeah? For god’s sake, we lived together for three years. We should be able to say what’s on our minds.”

 

“This isn’t picking out furniture, Eames, this is a child we’re talking about.”

 

“I am perfectly aware of that. I think I’ve made myself very clear on where I stand and what I want. It’s your turn now. So, speak up.” Eames stares at him across the table, frustrated and a little angry.

 

“I can’t just make this huge decision on a whim! I need facts, data. I need to know you’re serious about this and have considered all the outcomes.” Arthur throws down his fork, appetite gone.

 

“Then ask me. What do you need to know for you to believe that I’m serious? Because that’s it, isn’t it? You’re not worried I’m going to get spooked and run, you’re worried this is all a lark for me. That I’m going to walk out when things get hard. I’ve got news for you, pet, that’s your line.” 

 

Eames’ words are viscous, and Arthur can’t even deny them. That’s exactly what he’s worried about, and a part of him thinks Eames walking out on him would be fair play. He remembers Eames’ email, that Eames thinks he was the reason Arthur left. That’s where they need to start, Arthur decides. Eames needs to know the truth.

 

“I didn’t leave because of you.” He blurts.

 

Eames opens his mouth to argue, then closes it and frowns. “Huh?”

 

“When we broke up. Before. It wasn’t because of anything you did.” Arthur leans his elbows on the table, forcing himself to look at Eames.

 

“Yes, you did. I was there. I remember. You said you couldn’t do it anymore, that it was too hard to be with me.”

 

“I said it was too hard to be with you like that.” Arthur corrects.

 

Eames narrows his gaze. “The difference being?”

 

“I was a coward. Things got serious, and I ran.”

 

“We lived together for three years! Look, I know what the rumours were, but you said you didn’t believe them. You bloody told me that seven weeks ago, before we fucked! I never cheated on you, Arthur.” Eames’ voice is getting louder, the muscles in his neck starting to bulge.

 

“I know that!” Arthur shouts, willing himself to calm down. “Jesus, Eames, I know that. It wasn’t that.”

 

“Then what? Because you sure as hell let me believe that was the reason when you left.” 

 

“I didn’t know you thought that, I swear.”

 

Eames draws in a noisy breath through his nose. “Darling, I am very short on patience right now so if you could get to the fucking point-”

 

“I found the ring.” 

 

Arthur watches the colour drain from Eames’ face and he’s worries for a moment that Eames is going to bolt.

 

“I found the ring and I panicked. Three months before that, I caught someone tailing me home. Not to one of the decoys, not to a hotel room, to  _ our home _ , Eames. Someone angry with me knew about us and that put you in danger.”

 

Eames is staring at him, his breath quick, but steady. He doesn’t speak, so Arthur forges on.

 

“I dealt with it, I made it go away, but I realized it was only a matter of time before it happened again. There was always going to be someone waiting in the wings to catch us out. You were my weak spot, and I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t want you dead more.”

 

Eames shoves back from the table, chair legs screeching across the floor. Arthur jumps when he hears the back door slam. He sits for a minute, waiting to see if Eames will come back. When he doesn’t, Arthur packs up their dinner and puts it in the fridge. He empties and reloads the dishwasher, then he collects the baby bags from where Eames moved them on the coffee table, and takes them to his room, all while trying not to think about Eames not coming back

 

He spies the glowing end of a cigarette through the gap in his curtains, and opens the sliding door to the patio. The light sparks brighter before disappearing when Arthur steps onto the grass.

 

“Are you coming back in?” He asks, stopping in front of Eames, who is sitting in the dark at the far end of the yard in one of the adirondack chairs Arthur can no longer get in and out of.

 

“It’s cold, go back inside.” Eames says, his voice rough. There are cigarette butts in the soil behind him.

 

“Not until you answer me.”

 

“You know, pet, I’m not really feeling like I owe you a whole hell of a lot right now, so you should just go back inside before you get chilled.” 

 

Arthur can barely make out Eames’ face in the glow from his neighbour’s deck light, but he knows Eames isn’t looking at him.

 

“I know you don’t need it, but I’ll leave the back door open. There’s a spare bedroom, I’m sure you discovered while you were poking around. Feel free to use it,” Arthur pauses, waiting for Eames to acknowledge the offer. He doesn’t. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. And I hope you’re still here in the morning.”

 

Arthur walks back to the house, sniffing hard to ward off the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He takes a hot bath, trying not to listen for Eames’ return, but he can’t help the sob of relief that rips out of his throat when he hears the back door opening. 

 

When he’s dried off, and rubbed cacao butter over his belly to ease the burning stretch of his skin, he pulls on a soft pair of flannel pyjama pants and a worn t-shirt. He cinches the belt of his robe over his belly and goes to find Eames. He decided, while sulking in the tub, that he can’t let this fester until morning. He needs to clear the air and Eames is just going to have to deal with it.

 

Eames is brushing his teeth in the guest bathroom when Arthur knocks on the open door. Eames glares at him, before spitting in the sink and rinsing his mouth.

 

“I’m really not in the mood, Arthur.” He dries his mouth on the hand towel, smirking meanly when Arthur wrinkles his nose.

 

“We need to talk about this. I need to know if you’re serious.”

 

“Nothing’s changed between out there and in here. I still don’t owe you any answers.” Eames moves past him, deliberately leaving a few inches of space between himself and Arthur’s belly.

 

“Something’s changed, or you wouldn’t still be here.”

 

Eames shakes his head, pawing through his bag on the bed. “You think you know me so well. I’m not the man you walk away from. Twice.”

 

“What would you have done, huh? If someone had come after us because of you?” Arthur demands.

 

“I would have told you! That’s what people in a relationship do when something goes wrong! They talk to each other and figure it out. They don’t walk away, leaving the other one to pick up the bloody pieces!” Eames throws his bag to the floor.

 

“And you would have been happy doing that for the rest of our lives? Sneaking around, always covering our tracks?”

 

“What the hell do you think the ring was for? I was ready to get out, I thought you might be, too.” Eames sits on the end of the bed, looking desperate.

 

“And if I’d said I didn’t want to leave?” Arthur asks, because he’s not sure if he would have, at that point.

 

“Then I would have married you anyway and we’d have gotten better at hiding. Arthur, it didn’t matter where we were, or what we were doing. It was always only you that I wanted.” Eames sounds tired, like all his energy has been drained by the words coming out of his mouth.

 

“I didn’t know.” Arthur offers, throat thick with emotion.

 

“I thought I was making myself clear.”

 

Arthur wipes at his face and pulls his robe tighter around his body.

 

“Sit down, love. You look about ready to fall over.” Eames stands and coaxes Arthur to sit against the headboard.

 

“You don’t look much better, you know.” He says as he settles himself, head falling back.

 

“Well, you’re a lot of work.” Eames gives him a small, sad smile.

 

Arthur catches Eames’ wrist before he can back away. “I truly am sorry. I wish I could go back-”

 

“Hush, don’t say that,” Eames lays his hand over Arthur’s belly, stroking the terrycloth with his thumb. “If you went back, you wouldn’t have her.”

 

Arthur shudders at the thought, pressing Eames’ hand more firmly against the bump. “Maybe we’d have others.”

 

Eames shakes his head. “I don’t think so. We were different people then. This wasn’t even on our radar.”

 

“We were pretty wrapped up in ourselves.” Arthur agrees.

 

“I think, as hard as it was, we were meant to end up here together. Just like this.”

 

“Maybe this time we won’t hurt each other as much.”

 

Eames gives him a watery smile. “That’d be nice.”

 

Arthur tugs at his wrist. “Sit with me? We need to discuss your application.”

 

Eames laughs, crawling across the end of the bed to settle at Arthur’s side. “Did you like that?”

 

“It was very impressive. I was shocked to receive it, if I’m honest.”

 

“Really? I feel like I wore my heart on my sleeve the whole time we were on the last job together.” Eames wrinkles his nose, resting his hands in his lap.

 

“You did, but I thought it was just the pregnancy kink thing.”

 

“You know, I think I do have that. At least when it comes to you.”

 

Arthur looks away. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

Hey,” Eames turns Arthur’s head back with a hand to his chin. “It’s not just that.”

 

“What is it then? Explain it to me.”

 

“Arthur, I’m in love with you. Québec just reminded me how much. We’re different people now, but that just means we’ve grown. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. You, the baby, all of it. It took me by surprise when you walked into that warehouse, but I knew immediately that this was what I’d been looking for. Not with anyone else. Just with you. I want to be a father to this child and a partner to you. No matter what.”

 

Arthur’s crying again, silent tears that run fat and warm down his cheeks and leave a salty thickness in his throat.

 

“Don’t cry, love.” Eames thumbs away the tears and lays his hand over Arthur’s belly.

 

“What if something happens to me?” He whispers, voice caught by the emotion churning in his chest.

 

“Arthur,”

 

“No, Eames, I have to know. You know I do.” Arthur pushes him away.

 

“Arthur, I love you, and I will love this baby. I already do.”

 

“He loved me, too, until she was gone.” Arthur says, painful memories tumbling to the forefront of his mind. He folds his arms over his belly as though he can protect the innocent child inside him from his grief.

 

“Darling, please.” Eames reaches for him, but Arthur shakes his head.

 

“I have to know.”

 

Eames sighs. “Okay. If something happens to you, I will still love this child. She’s a part of you, Arthur, and I will cherish that always. I swear to you, your absence would not make me turn on her. It would make me cling to her more.”

 

“What if she looks like me?” He chokes out, feeling the hatred in his step-father’s eyes, even after all this time.

 

Eames smiles. “Then she’ll be the most beautiful little girl in the world. Arthur, please, please believe me when I say I will not abandon her.”

 

Arthur sniffs, reaching out to move Eames’ hand back to the swell of his stomach “I do. I do, I just really, really needed to hear you say it.”

 

“I will say it everyday if that’s what you need.” Eames presses a kiss to Arthur’s temple.

 

“No, I think I need trust you on this.” Arthur tugs open his robe, letting Eames sneak his hand under his shirt to pet at the skin beneath.

 

“It’s so tight.” He says, laughing in shock when the baby kicks.

 

“Yeah, she does that now.” Arthur smiles.

 

Eames leans his head closer to the belly. “Hello, sprout.”

 

The baby kicks and Eames laughs again, warming the spot in Arthur’s heart that Eames has always occupied. Arthur blinks his eyes slowly as Eames pokes lightly at the baby.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s nodded off until Eames calls his name. He peels his eyes open, squinting against the light.

 

“Come on, you. Up you get. Let’s put you to bed.”

 

“I need my bed. All my pillows are there.” Arthur mumbles.

 

“Yes, dear,” Eames quips, helping him to his feet. He pauses, staring intently at Arthur for a moment. “Are we set?”

 

Arthur nods. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

 

Eames kisses him softly, smiling against Arthur’s mouth. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m going to make you paint the nursery.” Arthur grumbles, shuffling towards the door.

 

“Your wish is my command.” Eames declares, wrapping his arm around Arthur’s back to steady him.

 

Arthur snorts. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that one, buddy.”

 

“I’m counting on you not remembering it in the morning.” Eames tells him, freeing Arthur of his robe and hanging it on the door.

 

“I remember everything. Mind like a steel trap.” Arthur taps his head, then falls onto his side and snuggles into the pillows.

 

“Whatever you say, darling.” Eames pulls the covers up, kissing him on the forehead and turning to go.

 

Arthur clutches at his shirt. “Stay.”

 

“You’re exhausted. You need sleep.” 

 

“So do you. Stay,” Arthur smiles up at him. “Please.”

 

Eames brushes Arthur’s hair off his brow and nods. “Okay, love. I’ll just go lock up. I’ll be right back.”

 

Arthur doesn’t remember Eames coming back to bed, but he’s there when Arthur gets up to pee at 2am. And again at 3:30. And at 5:47. The next time he wakes up, the sun it streaming through the crack in the curtains and Eames is pressed all along his back, naked, warm, and solid. Arthur arches, groaning at the stretch and pull of his stiff joints. Eames burrows in closer behind him, his erection nestled against Arthur’s lower back.

 

He wiggles a little, seeing if Eames will wake up. He doesn’t, but the arm slung under Arthur’s belly tightens, brushing against his own half hard cock. Eames is here, in his bed, and he’s promised to stay. There is no way Arthur’s not taking advantage of that as soon as he possible can. He slips out of bed as quietly and gracefully as his expanding body will allow, and uses the bathroom. He sheds his clothes, and slides back under the covers. Eames has rolled over, so Arthur curves his body against him, trailing his fingers over the soft downy hair that covers Eames’ arm. He keeps his touch light, basking in his ability to touch this man freely once again. 

 

Their life together before hadn’t been perfect, but it was as close as Arthur had ever gotten. He can admit now that he’s missed Eames every day since he left, and he vows never to be that stupid, ever again. His hand makes its way down Eames’ body, over the dip of his waist to the curve of his ass. Arthur’s touch grows firmer and he lets his fingers glide down Eames’ crack and back up. Eames’ thigh is firm and wide under his palm and he walks his fingers up his cock before swirling a fingertip around Eames’ nipple.

 

Eames moans softly when Arthur drags his nails over the nub, drawing it to a peak. He rubs at it gently and before long, Eames is starting to squirm. He rolls onto his back, throwing his arm over his head, and arching into it when Arthur’s mouth closes around his nipple. One hand threads itself in Arthur’s hair as the other one wraps around his straining cock. Eames strokes himself slowly while Arthur plays. When nails scratch against his scalp, and soft whimpers are coming from Eames’ throat, Arthur ventures lower, kissing and licking over Eames’ broad chest. He doesn’t fool around, just covers Eames’ cock with his mouth to where Eames’ hand is still holding himself.

 

Arthur sinks lower when Eames lets go, and he has to get up onto his hands and knees to accommodate his belly. Eames protests when he notices, but Arthur just taked him in further, groaning around his mouthful. He hadn’t had a chance to do this seven weeks ago, and, God, he’s missed it. All Arthur had wanted then was to be fucked, hormones raging, and body desperate for attention. 

 

Not that much has changed, come to think of it, and the thought of Eames inside of him makes him keen and swallow around the head of Eames’ cock. He pulls off and grins up at Eames, who looks flushed and utterly wrecked.

 

“I want you to fuck me.” Arthur tells him, crawling up his body, belly smooth and firm against Eames’ skin.

 

“Okay, sure.” Eames gasps, reaching for him.

 

Arthur kneels above him, reaching back to grab Eames’ cock. He gasps as he lowers himself down, his body gripping Eames’ cock as it breaches him. He doesn’t stop until he’s got Eames as deep as he can be, then Arthur starts rolling his hips. 

 

“Fucking hell, Arthur.” Eames swears, gripping Arthur’s sides and helping him along.

 

Arthur laughs, speeding up, getting a little rougher, and little more careless. Eames feels amazing, and Arthur can’t help but preen under the starry-eyed stare of the man beneath him. Eames’ hands keeps staying to his belly, petting over it before pulling Arthur down, and down, and down, with a firm grip. Arthur raises his hands above his head, stretching out and indulging in his feeling of power and control. 

 

Eames can’t take his eyes off him, and his hands seem to want to be everywhere at once, moving from his belly to his chest, thumbs rubbing over Arthur’s sensitive nipples, then gripping at his hips as he fucks him unrelentingly. Arthur helps him focus by placing one of Eames’ hands on his belly, and one on his leaking cock. Arthur grinds down on Eames, leaning back a little to give Eames room to work. Eames watches him like a man entranced, uttering praise when Arthur gets the angle just right and Eames thrusts up against his prostate. Arthur swears, his body shaking apart as Eames strokes him through a blinding orgasm. When the last shocks have left his system and he glances down at Eames, he’s covered in Arthur ejaculate, licking it off his fingers, and grinning.

 

Arthur grins. “You’re turn.”

 

Eames growls and rolls to the side, grabbing Arthur’s arms to soften his fall to the mattress. He maneuvers Arthur onto his side, curling up behind him. He lifts Arthur’s upper leg out to the side with a hand behind his knee, and slides back in.

 

“How gentle do I need to be with you?” He asks, biting at Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“I won’t break.” Arthur promises, and Eames’ hand tightens around his thigh, using it as leverage to rut into him. 

 

Arthur raises his arms to push against the headboard, meeting Eames thrust for thrust. He’s sensitive and sore, but Eames feels so fucking good, he can’t bear asking him to stop. Eames is panting into Arthur’s ear and biting at his skin. He lowers Arthur’s leg, sliding his hand under Arthur’s belly and slowing his movements until Arthur can feel every inch as is retreats and pushes back into him.

 

It’s somehow more intense than before, and Arthur finds himself reaching back to pull at Eames’ hip, trying to take him deeper.

 

“I love you.” Eames whispers into his hair.

 

Arthur turns his head, but the kiss is uncoordinated and his lip is crushed under Eames’ top teeth.

 

“I love you, too.” He says, riding the undulating wave of Eames’ movements.

 

“Yeah?” Eames asks, smiling against the back of Arthur’s neck.

 

“I love you,” Arthur repeats, putting a little more force into his hips, needing to feel Eames inside him. Wanting every part of his man to himself. “I love you. I love you. Eames, I love you so fucking much.”

 

Eames roars, thrusts going hard and erratic, emptying himself into Arthur until his hips are stuttering and he’s slumping forward.

 

Arthur pets at him until he rouses and starts leaving little pecking kisses everywhere he can reach. Arthur laughs, jostling him, and Eames slides out.

 

“That was good.” Arthur says, snuggling into his pillows.

 

“That was bloody fantastic.” Eames corrects, stroking Arthur’s belly.

 

“I love you,” Arthur says, adoring the way Eames arm tightens around him. “But I’m still making you paint the nursery.”

 

Eames chuckles and bites the round of Arthur’s shoulder. “You wish is my command, darling.”

 


End file.
